


Episode 1: The False Ripper

by Cassidius_Wilde



Series: The Extra Adventures of Prep Betty and Jughead [2]
Category: Original Work, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Just murdering someone, Light teasing on Betty’s side, Prep Bughead, Things are about to get dark, kinda cringe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassidius_Wilde/pseuds/Cassidius_Wilde
Summary: It was just supposed to be just the two of them spending some alone time in Jughead’s cabin. What happens when an unexpected person arrives?
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Series: The Extra Adventures of Prep Betty and Jughead [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183637
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	Episode 1: The False Ripper

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This may be fucked up for some people. . .most people.  
> Time: Set around when they were 19.

**Warning: This story contains acts of violence, graphic scenes, light gore, and a slight mention of sexual assault.**

Betty Cooper wasn't one for princess mornings but just this once, waking up to a perfect day with the birds singing outside their cabin was nice. She liked the way warmth surrounded her all over even while being in the nude, and she liked that the fluffy, velvet sheets smelled like the freshest forest being caressed by cool autumn air.

When she turned to face _him_ , his locked hold on her waist got tighter, like letting her go would cost him everything. And just like every time she woke up before him, Betty began tracing the two small scars on his face, gently so as to not wake him up.

The light snores that escaped his mouth from time to time were as cute as his messed up raven hair - owing to the night before where he spent hours fucking _praising_ every inch of her body as she lost her mind, not knowing whether to scream for mercy or _'more'._ They were sticking out in every direction but that one curl hanging over his forehead remained.

"Hmmm," Jughead purred, causing vibrations to tickle both their chests. Just as she pulled on the strand, his eyes fluttered open and he smiled openly - something he rarely ever did - showing two perfect pairs of sharp canines, both above and below. Betty remembered how they grazed her thigh before he fucking bit. Although it didn't puncture her skin, it was just enough to leave a solid mark for god knows how long.

"Morning, handsome," Betty greeted, drawing circles on the mark on his jaw with two delicate fingers.

His smile turned small, lovable, as he looked at her for a moment before answering. "Hi, Bun," he said, placing a long kiss on her palm and then going to her lips.

"You overdid it again last night," Betty blurted out of nowhere. "I don't think I'm up for our usual morning walk today."

Jughead chuckled putting himself up with the help of his arm. "Why don't we just stay inside for the whole day then? We didn't really plan anything either"

"You mean 'forgot' to plan."

"Hey, you were the one who distracted me," he argued with another chuckle and gave her a short growl. "Ain't that right, Pen?"

The two looked behind him as his other half - his shadow - materialised. Like always, a smile was present on his face. He floated over Jughead and went to Betty who was still laying down with her arm stretched out to him.

"Morning to you, too, handsome. . .again," she giggled, placing a hand on his cold cheek and pulled him in for a sweet peck on the lips that had him shivering in delight.

"So what are we gonna do all day inside?" Betty asked when Pen pulled away.

"I was gonna suggest another round but I figured you need some rest after the last two days."

The blonde smacked him on the chest. "You can't do me every hour of every day, Jug."

"Werewolf stamina, Betts," Jughead said and Pen's shoulders shook, which only meant that Jughead was laughing on the inside. It was one of the things Betty had learned about him. While Jughead wanted to stay unreadable, he couldn't really do that when his animated shadow was like a giant portrait of his feelings. He said it himself: they shared the same thoughts and emotions but their actions were separated. If Pen went to get ice cream, it was because Jughead wanted ice cream; and if Jughead wanted a kiss, it was because Pen wanted one but couldn't come out.

Betty rolled her eyes. "Fine. _I_ can't do you every hour of every day. Either way, you're not getting any."

"Well, I'm not complaining," he said, hand repeatedly squeezing her covered waist in a light massage. "You need your breaks. Tell you what, why don't you stay in bed all day and I'll do anything you want."

"Don't you do that every day?" Betty scoffed a giggle and Jughead shrugged.

"Then today won't make a difference."

"Alright," she replied, her tone made it sound like she was challenging him. It was low and seductive, and God did it send shivers down his spine - Jughead almost, _almost_ lost it. "Go get me some breakfast then. You know what I want, but please add iced tea. I think my throat is busted."

"The wife gets what the wife wants," Jughead chuckled, getting up with a grunt after kissing her on the lips.

"I'm not your wife," Betty said as he picked up his shorts. Before he could give her a comeback, she continued with: "Not yet, anyway."

 _Sneaky little vixen,_ he praised her in his head.

"So what's the harm in calling you that now if you know I'm gonna marry you?" Jughead asked, pulling up his shorts.

Betty shrugged. "Eh," she passed and then her head snapped up to look at him. "Wait, can't Pen stay with me?"

"He's my shadow, Betts. Wherever I go, he goes."

"Ugh."

Looking at her sprawled lazily on the bed one last time, he smirked. _Beautiful,_ he thought and off he went to make his goddess an offering.

Jughead was never a fan of cooking, but he did love food. In the four years he and Betty had been together, it was inevitable that he had to learn, even if she insisted that she does all the cooking. The girl was excellent at it, that's for sure. She told him stories about how she sometimes cooked for her two friends back in military school and she eventually gave Jughead some recipes that he had been fucking up for a year. Though there was one recipe he secretly kept that didn't belong to her.

When they went to one of Veronica's fancy parties, Betty had gotten a taste of a very unique dish. Her near obsession made it Jughead’s mission to track the chef down and ask him how it’s made.

It cost a lot of bribes and time for him to learn how to cook fried rice with two special tacos on the side. It was hard to grasp at first, but Jughead eventually got the hang of it and the finished result was uncanny to that of the chef’s. Betty was impressed and he was happy.

When he got back to their bedroom, it was obvious she had raided his closet. She flopped down on her back on the soft mattress like a starfish, clad in one of his ‘S’ t-shirts, the hem being curved on the middle of her creamy thighs. He smirked, seeing the strong marks he left.

“I thought you couldn’t walk,” Jughead said, startling her.

“You should’ve seen the hell I went through to get to your closet, Jones,” Betty barked, glaring at him until her eyes caught the tray in his hands. “Give.”

The raven hummed, walking over to the sliding doors that led to the balcony. He set the plates down on the wooden table and basked in the sweet refreshing air of the mountains. Greendale had never been more peaceful without seeing the townsfolk sticking their noses in every corner. Jughead almost thanked his dad for buying a cot away from the village.

Moments later, Betty’s hands came around his torso, her lips trailing kisses on his naked back.

“I’m hungry,” she whined and he walked her over a chair.

“You’re seriously not tired of eating the same thing everyday?” Jughead asked his girlfriend as he took a sip of his warm coffee.

“Hey, it’s not every day,” Betty said, biting a taco in half. “And I don’t see you saying something about being tired of doing it everyday.”

Jughead snickered. “What’s up with you bringing sex into our talks today?”

 _‘We’re taking a break but it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop teasing you, Juggie,’_ she answered him in her head and shrugged, tongue sticking out to slowly travel along her lower lip before she bit on it.

 _‘This is gonna be a long day,’_ Jughead groaned inwardly.

And what a long day it was. A long day of giving Betty a massage in which she wouldn’t stop moaning his name when he put the perfect pressure on her hips.

“Ngh, harder, Jug,” she voiced and his eye twitched, as well as something from below.

A part of him screamed to just _fucking take her right then and there_. She knew what she was doing, the devilish smirk that stretched on her face when Pen’s smile disappeared screamed it at his face. Betty was keeping tabs on his shadow's reaction. When she first moaned aloud and lewdly, she resisted the urge to bellow a laugh at how they froze, heads snapping to look at each other like deers in the headlights.

Jughead caught her game on the third sound. He wanted to just bite her, fucking repeat what he did last night, do something but there were other days to get back at her for this kind of torture.

“Ow!” Betty yelped. Pen was gone, darkness covered his hands to his forearms and the claws that followed lightly dug under the shirt to her skin.

Jughead snatched his hand away and they returned to their ivory shade. “Sorry.”

 _‘Okay,’_ Betty thought. _‘Maybe don’t tease him too much.’_

When evening came, Jughead carried her down after they got to change into a more decent style, both wearing ‘S’ t-shirts that we’re neatly tucked in black jeans. They played whatever board games Jughead kept in the living room and from time to time he let her win - sometimes she won by herself. It was boring but they loved spending time with each other no matter the activity.

“And that’s 35 points for me,” placing the last letter of her word on the board, Betty grinned and nuzzled herself on his chest after placing a kiss on his jaw, marking it with her watermelon lipstick.

“Hmm,” Jughead smiled, thinking of a counter attack.

“Oh, before you move,” Betty sprang out of his arms, grabbing her empty cup on the table. Her legs had gotten a bit better but still shaky when she walked at a certain speed. “Can you get me another refill please. Sorry.”

Jughead was surprised. His mate had been drinking nothing but iced tea since this morning and she seldom took trips to the restroom.

Taking the cup with a nod he sauntered off to the kitchen. Then a minute passed. Two minutes and he still wasn’t back.

“Jug, what’s taking so long?” she called out, receiving no answer.

Just as she was about to check on him she heard a click behind her. It sounded similar to when she pulled the hammer of her pistol.

“Don’t. Move,” said the intruder. He sounded older, maybe around thirty. Alcoholic. Depressed. And a random thief. “Turn around with your arms up.”

Betty giggled. “I thought you told me not to move? Make up your mind.”

“Don’t get smart with me, girl,” he snarled, voice growing deeper, more dangerous. “Now turn around and keep your mouth shut.”

Sighing, Betty rolled her eyes and turned to face him with her arms raised in surrender. The guy was taller than her and was definitely buffer than Moose Mason. He had almond hair and brown eyes that were trying so hard to intimidate his prey, half his face was hidden under a red bandanna.

As much as Betty wanted to deal with him, she didn’t want to waste her energy on a classless thief. They deserve nothing but to be locked up behind bars. After all, they were only driven by greed.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” the guy continued. “You’re going to give me whatever you have and no one gets hurt. Are we clear?”

She didn’t stop the snort that came out of her mouth, causing the man to march towards her with thundering footsteps, the edge of the gun now pressed on the side of her head. Cold and sharp.

“Wrong pose, buddy,” Betty commented. She learned how to shoot with a gun, it was only fair that she knew how to disarm someone with one, and the position the thief was in was one of the easiest to work with, especially with her hands raised the way they were. One grab and she would be breaking his arm.

“Do you know who I am?” the man growled, his face nearing hers.

“Obviously a guy who is in desperate need of a bath,” she answered, pulling her head back. “And I would really appreciate it if you gave me some personal space.”

He glared at her harder. “I,” he paused. “Am the Greendale Ripper.”

Betty’s eyes shone as they grew dark. _‘Maybe this night isn’t gonna be so boring after all.’_

Suddenly, she gripped his hand that held the gun, pulling it slightly down with a twist away from her face making him drop it and struck his elbow hard with her free forearm. A light crack erupted and the guy howled in pain. He may have been pure muscle and big but that only meant that his speed was beneath hers.

Betty looked down at his fallen form as he screamed, “You fucking bitch!”.

Before he had a chance to lunge at her, a hard pressure was applied on the back of his neck, knocking him out cold. Jughead was back and she took the drink from his hand.

“Thank you,” she said as she pulled his face in for a quick kiss. “Oh, and can you tie him up please.”

“Where are you going?”

“Getting some stuff,” she shrugged, turning her cup in circles. “On second thought, tie him up and then come help me. I can’t carry it all by myself.”

. . .

It was four hours later that the guy woke up, body tied to a tattered chair along with his arms while his ankles were strapped on the legs of the furniture. His mask was gone and he struggled on the restraints. He noticed he was in a different room. There were tools everywhere and a large, rectangle container filled with bubbling, blue water was in front of him on the floor.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Betty said, coming out from behind him, cup in hand.

“What the fuck did you do to me?!” he snarled, shaking the chair.

“I did nothing but break your arm,” she admitted. “My boyfriend, however - he was the one who knocked you out and tied you up.”

“Let me go.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Betty said. “You see, I did a bit of searching and guess who I found?” She showed him her phone. It had his face on it as well as all the details about how he was a wanted person for burglary and murder. Luckily, his name wasn’t written. No one knew who was.

Jughead came to stand beside her, leaning on a drawer with arms folded. He glared at the thief like he wanted to choke him to death, bring him back to life, and do it again.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Betty continued, skipping closer to him. “You’re going to give me whatever information I want to know and no one gets hurt. Are we clear?”

The man clenched his jaw. “You’re crazy,” he spat.

“Hey now,” she exclaimed. “I’m not the one who barged into someone’s cabin unannounced and threatened to blow a lady’s brains out. But, back to business. You see that?” Betty looked back at the container, the two boys following short. “That is what you’ll be kissing if you don’t comply with our agreement.”

“So what?” he barked. “You’re just going to boil my face?”

“What?” Betty asked, confused. “Oh, no! No. That’s not hot water. It’s completely cold, I promise. Though, I can’t say the same about the things inside. And trust me. . .” she paused, face going near his so her mouth was beside his ear as her finger rested on his rope covered chest. “You don’t wanna know what’s in there.”

Her whisper was enough to send a chill down his spine. She sounded seriously psychotic and he gulped, eyes staring at the container. If it wasn’t boiling water, what was making those bubbles?

Betty pulled away from him at the same time Jughead let out a low growl of jealousy.

“If you fail to answer any of my questions or you lie, you’re gonna have to find out,” she chirped, clapping her hands together. “So, first question. You said you were the Greendale Ripper. That’s not true, is it?”

The guy shakingly nodded. “How’d you know?” he asked

“Well, for one, I’m pretty sure a mass murderer wouldn’t ask for money. Your record says you’re a murderer but I think you’re more of a sloppy robber that doesn’t plan his heists properly,” Betty answered. “Second, Rippers don’t go boasting about their title until they get the job done. Next question: How many houses did you rob in your lifetime?”

“I. . . I can’t remember.”

“Juggie?”

Jughead walked behind his chair and bent it forward so that the guy’s face was in a risky distance with the water. From there, he caught a glimpse of swarming black lines. They were emerging up and down like waves and were definitely out of control. Eels?

“Okay! Okay!” he yelled. “Fifteen! I robbed about fifteen houses.”

Jughead pulled him back, the back legs of his chair landing with a brutal thud that affected his ass.

“Good boy,” Betty said. “Now. . .did you ever kill anyone?”

“I - I did.”

“How many?”

“N - nine.”

“Which ones are boys and which are girls?”

“Uh, th - three were boys and the rest were girls.” With each passing question the guy’s heart pounded harder in his chest. _How many more questions was she gonna ask?_

“Names?”

“I - I don’t - ” Jughead lifted his chair up again. “E - Emma, Christa, Robby, Gibson, Cheryl, uh, K - Kyle, Joni, Jack, Mary, and Marco.” He blurted frantically.

Betty pursed her lips, staring at him with dead eyes and frowned. She wasn’t amused.

“I told you not to lie to me. Those are ten people, not to mention five boys,” she sneered and looked at her boyfriend who pushed him with such force he prayed to whichever God he knew that the rope wouldn’t break. His face was mere inches from the water, small splashes landing on his cheek. It was cold, like Betty said.

“I - I’m sorry! I - ” he begged, tone desperate for a lick of mercy. But his pleas were muted by the two people above him.

“Don’t you think he gets a pass with this question?” Jughead asked his mate, arm struggling to hold the shaking chair due to the guy’s squirming.

“Well, he should’ve told me he couldn’t remember or didn’t keep track of that information than lie - ”

Betty’s sentence was cut short when the top rail of the chair - the one that Jughead was holding on to - snapped, sending the man’s head to dive into the surface of the water, his neck landing on the side edge of the container prevented his face from going down any further. It wasn’t a second later that bits of red were added to the blue liquid as his screams were muffled, making more bubbles than Betty’s pet piranhas.

“Oops,” Jughead said, grabbing the guy by the back of his collar and pulled him back. “My bad.”

The result was like Mercury with its craters. He was heavily breathing out of a chipped nose but the blood gushing out wasn’t enough to match the amount coming out of his mutilated lips. But Betty’s attention was on the fish that plopped down to the ground. It must’ve been pulled out as it took one last bite at the guy.

“Fuck, Arthur!” she yelled, picking the small predator by the tail and tossing it back to the container.

“Sorry, man,” Jughead apologised to the man.

“Doesn’t matter,” Betty said with a sigh. “What matters is that he actually turned out to be a killer after all. Nevermind the names but you did kill about nine people, right?”

The guy nodded, still catching his breath with his mouth open and eyes closed.

“Is it exactly nine, or more?” she questioned further and he nodded again, unable to say anything with what he just went through.

“Nine?” He shook his head.

“Holy shit. See, I told you he was lying to me, Jug.”

“Hmm,” Jughead hummed.

“Did you enjoy killing them and did you ever sexually assaulted anyone?”

Another nod. The room got quiet.

The guy whimpered and shook like he was doused with ice as Betty came closer. She looked like death in his eyes, ready to take his life. She rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, stop being such a baby,” she said. “I’m just gonna untie you, and you’re free to go.”

He looked at her in shock. A part of him wanted to ask why they were letting him go but as soon he felt the ropes loose around him, he bolted to the closed door and took out on a sprint like his life depended on it. He ran and ran through the dark woods but didn’t get too far from where he was held until a gunshot rang in his ear before he collapsed, inhaling his very last batch of air.

“But I didn’t say you were gonna be alive when you do,” Betty put her gun back on the drawer and cackled.

Pen and Jughead eventually tossed him in the nearby lake where another set of carnivorous fishes would enjoy his rotting flesh. Betty felt bad for feeding them with such a corrupted soul but as long as it made their bellies full, it wasn’t a problem.

“Now, where were we?” she asked her boyfriend and he smiled, picking her up to the kitchen where they cleaned their hands off of what little remained and went back to their night, completing their game of Scrabble.

“Can you make me another drink, please,” Betty requested and Jughead chuckled, shaking his head.

**Author's Note:**

> And that’s another adventure for these babies.


End file.
